


The First Time, and the Last

by Nifflers_n_nargles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blackmail, Bottom!Harry, Dancing in Clubs with Boys, Draco Malfoy Speaks French, Draco in a Strop, Draco to the Rescue, Established Friendship, First Time, Light Coersion (non-sexual), M/M, Masterbatory Fantasies, Mutual Oblivious Pining, Praise Kink, Rimming, Truth or Dare, draco speaking french, top!draco, wingman!ron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 03:46:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14204352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nifflers_n_nargles/pseuds/Nifflers_n_nargles
Summary: Harry Potter has given up on love, and sex...but not if Draco Malfoy can help it.





	The First Time, and the Last

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to @goldentruth13 for this great prompt, and for unintentionally inspiring me to join this fest.  
> A million thanks to my brilliant beta J, you always make me better.  
> And finally a huge thanks to the mods for putting on this amazing fest and tolerating my multiple requests for extensions. 
> 
> All translations came from Google, apologies if they are not correct!
> 
> See the endnote for the prompt.

* * *

Draco could hear his mobile beeping from the other room. It was a text message and he already knew the contents of it. He had no desire to pick it up. Potter deserved whatever he was getting right now.

Draco had spent the entire evening moping around the flat, wandering aimlessly, sighing far too frequently, and irritating Blaise to no end. Finally the other boy’s amber eyes flashed dangerously as he snapped at Draco to get over it or go mope in his room where Blaise wouldn’t have to look at him. Draco had thrown quite the strop over that comment and stomped into his room without his mobile. By the time he realized it was missing he was too embarrassed to leave the safety of his bedroom and retrieve it. Now he was stuck here, lying on his bed, listening to the faint-yet-distinctive sound of another text message coming through. Draco through about getting up to check his mobile. Usually Potter didn’t send two messages on nights like this. What if something was wrong? He was about to get up to collect his phone when he heard the sound again. But, half a second later he heard Blaise’s text alert as well. Draco slumped back into his pillows - it was to be a group outing. He chided himself on waiting too long. Clearly Harry hadn’t immediately wanted the whole group to know what was going on, and from the sheer number of beeps and chirps he was hearing, the group was going to be a big one.

“Draco, I know you can hear this,” Blaise called from the living room. “I’m sure you can guess what it says but this one seems particularly bad. I’m going to change.”

Draco did respond to his flat mate but sat up and ran an elegant hand through the top his hair; he’d cut it earlier in the week and still was not used to the new length. The muggle barber he had been frequenting for a few years had finally talked Draco into trying a new look - he had called it an undercut. He mused about whether or not he should check his mobile while rubbing the newly-shorn sides of his head, enjoying the velvety feeling. Draco knew he should go, the tone in Blaise’s voice made that clear, but he was tired of feeling this way every time Potter had a “crisis” and needed participants for his pity parties.

Draco had all but decided he was not going to respond to Potter’s distress call when the Floo chimed. He groaned audibly. Now he had no choice.

“Oi, Malfoy, Zabini, anyone home?” Weasel called through the flat. “I know you saw the group text.”  
“I saw no such thing, Weasel” Draco shouted from his room. He got up from his bed and made for the door as the knob turned. Draco yanked the door open and sniggered as Weasley was knocked off balance. “Manners, Weasel,” Draco teased warmly, “haven’t you learned by now that a closed door usually means the occupants of the room don’t want to be disturbed?” Ron’s ears rapidly pinked at the memory of walking in on Seamus and Dean en flagrante delicto at Ginny and Luna’s last party. Draco smirked as Hermione rolled her eyes behind her fiancé.

“Draco, we really need to be going,” Hermione scolded, gently. “I can only imagine the state Harry is going to be in by the time we get there. Have you really not seen his message?”

“No, I left my phone on the counter-”

“I tried to tell him but he was too busy pouting in his room,” Blaise interjected, giving Hermione and Ron a knowing look. “He’s been in a right snit all night.”

“I have not!” Draco attempted to protest but his friends were not buying it. Apparently his feelings for Harry were obvious to everyone but the Chosen Prat himself.

“Maybe you should read it Draco,” Hermione suggested gently.  
Draco nodded and walked over to the kitchen counter. He had 37 messages. “Merlins tits, Granger, I thought you said he only sent one message!”

“He did, but the group had a bit of fun about it.”  
Draco could see that, Seamus and Ginny went a step beyond taking the piss and Harry silence spoke volumes. Considering his message had read “999 - worse than the Skeeter Incident,” he found it all a bit unnecessary. The Skeeter Incident had been terrible. When he finished reading the groups nonsense Draco still had four unread messages. Even though he already knew who they were from, his heart skipped a beat.

The first Harry had sent was from well before the group message, 10 minutes in if Draco’s memory was correct. How had he not heard this alert?

“I have a bad feeling about this one. Something feels off.”

Draco would have rolled his eyes if he hadn’t read the group messages first. He knew this wasn’t an over-exaggeration - Potter didn’t reference the Skeeter incident lightly.

He clicked down to the second message, also sent before the group. “Draco, this is the absolute worst.” Followed quickly by, “I need to get out of here.” Draco began to sweat. He had ignored Harry on purpose and now everyone was involved. He was going to hate Draco when he found out. The last message had come after the pile-on that was the group chat. Draco took a breath as he clicked it open. “I know you’re probably tired of this, which is why you’re not answering, but please. I need you.”  
Alright, mate?” Weasley’s voice broke Draco out of his little text world.

Draco looked up and realized that the three of them were staring at him; Blaise smirking deviously, Weasley’s eyes dancing with the joy of watching a Malfoy lose his composure, Hermione staring at him as if his thoughts were painted across his face. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, fine. Give me two minutes to change and we’ll go.” Draco retreated into his room to right himself.  
His room was a mess; piles of clothes littered the floor, empty tea cups were stacked on his side table next to the half-eaten box of biscuits Draco had grabbed mid-strop, hair and skin potions were cluttered on top of his dresser. He looked around in desperation, what was he going to wear? Everything was either dirty, wrinkled, or both. He grabbed a pair of light-grey trousers from what he thought was a clean pile and sniffed them. He didn’t find any offending odours but did a quick cleaning charm followed by an ironing charm Pansy had taught him when they lived together right out of Hogwarts. He paired the trousers with a soft, black v-neck sweater and slipped the clothes on. Finally, he grabbed a hair potion and ran it through his platinum blonde locks.

“Malfoy!” Blaise shouted, “if you take any longer I’m going to shave your head.”

Shit, he wouldn’t have time to shave. “Keep your pants on, Zabini, I’m ready” Draco replied, calmer than he felt. “Let’s go.”

***

“Fucking hell,” Harry sighed as he slid back into the well worn booth, scrubbing his face with both hands.

They were the first words he had uttered in the hour they had been there. Draco watched him hawkishly from across the table for any sign that he might be ready to spill what had happened. Potter had been on bad dates before but Draco had never seen him this wrecked over one. He had been there for most of these post-mortems. There had been a seemingly never-ending parade of hero-worshippers, fan girls & boys, fame chasers, idiots, and gold-fiends that had convinced Harry they were worthy enough of his time. These had been met with equal measures of pity and mockery, with a dash of disgust for fun. The group size always varied but Draco seemed to be a constant (so far as he knew), even being called in for solo missions on occasion (not that Granger and Weasley knew about those).

Draco knew Harry’s benchmark for terrible was the Skeeter Incident, and Draco had definitely found that one to be the most distasteful, but his watermark for worst had to be the misguided fool who attempted to Polyjuice into Harry mid-date. The implications of that had been the most frightening, but luckily the tosser ended up in St. Mungo’s - the hair he had pulled off the back of Harry’s sweater had been a niffler hair leftover from his visit to Hagrid earlier that day. Draco wondered for a moment if they had managed to remove the bill from his face yet, suppressing a snicker. Harry’s rage had been explosive after Skeeter - that had been easy enough for Draco to handle, having experienced plenty of Potter-rage at school - and withdrawn after the Polyjuice debacle - that had been more painful to navigate, but eventually they had gotten him to come around. This one felt different though. The whole group could tell, even the She-Weasel and Finnegan - who had about as much finesse with his friends as he did with his magic - had realize this was not the time to tease.  
The group waited quietly for him to continue, with Harry it was always best to let him get there in his own time.

“It wasn’t a date, it was an ambush.”

Hermione looked panicked. “Harry, what do you mean? Did they attack you? Was it Death Ea-”

“No, ‘Mione, not like that.” He sighed and downed his drink.

Draco shot a look at Granger, she needed to calm down. The only way to get him to talk was to stay calm. Even Finnegan had that much sense. She looked at him guiltily. Harry took another deep breath.

“He was a producer for the WWN. Somehow,” he grimaced, “they found out about all of the dates and want to make a show about it. About me.”

“Hah, that’s all mate?” Seamus near-shouted. “You had us worried.”

Draco could have murdered him in that moment. Obviously that wasn’t all. “Seamus, do us a favor and use a permanent sticking charm on your mouth, will you?” Draco shot down the table. Seamus looked about ready to say something that would get him hexed into next week. Lucky for him Dean gently put a hand on his shoulder and muttered something that made Seamus look sheepish and turned on all in the same moment. Draco was impressed.

“Draco’s right,” Harry admitted, “He told me that since I’m a public figure and there is significant interest that they could do it with or without my approval. Of course, they would prefer to do it with me, but they can’t pass up anything about ‘The Chosen One,’ even if he doesn’t approve.”

“Well, that can’t be correct,” Hermione jumped in, immediately in research mode, “there are privacy laws! They cannot do this to you Harry. I won’t allow it. I need to consult my law books, and maybe write to Madam Prince, I’m sure she can point me in the right direction…”

Hermione continued in this vein, talking to herself, mostly, and making a plan while the rest of them turned back to Harry.  
“This is so unfair,” Ron complained. “You did not die for these arseholes to do this to you.”

“Want me to break his knee Harry?” Ginny asked, her eyes fiery with rage for her surrogate-brother. “I can invite him to the pitch for some ‘media exclusive.’ It would be nothing, really.”

Harry mustered a weak smile for them. “Thanks, Gin, but no. I’m not fighting this one.”

The group gaped at him. No one knew what to say, which was saying something. None of them were used to him giving up. It was completely out of character.

“Harry, you don’t have to take this.” Hermione said tearfully, “You don’t deserve it. After everything you’ve done and everything you’ve been though. I’m so tired of them taking advantage of and harassing you. You may not want to fight it but I am. Those fuckers are not entitled to anymore of you than they’ve already had.” With that Hermione go up, and with a swirl of her cloak disappeared.

“Well then,” Ron broke the silence with a cheeky grin, “I guess I’ll be on my own for the next 36 hours. That’s all she should need before she has her plan.” Everyone chuckled, “Let’s move this to our flat then, it’s nearly closing time and I’m sure Harry would fancy another fire whiskey or seven.”

***

The flat looked like a hurricane had torn through it, Hermione had clearly made a stop before heading in to her office. Books were missing from their shelves with a large number of them heaped on the floor in a classic Granger-discard pile, stacks of parchment had been dumped unceremoniously on an armchair, a folio of Ministry documents were scattered across the floor as if it had been flung away, her favorite set of quills were missing from the desk, and a plant had been knocked off its stand. Neville had hurried over to the plant the second he stepped out of the Floo and began fussing with it. Ron gaped like a fish on a line while Blaise righted the rest of the room with a wave of his wand. Ginny and Pansy made a beeline for the kitchen for supplies while Dean transfigured some side tables into additional seating, admonishing Seamus when he tried to help, drunk as he already was, an explosion would have been imminent. Luna started up the record player and soft jazz filled the quiet space.

Draco curled into a squashy armchair and Harry plopped down on the floor in front of him. He stared at the back of Potter’s messy head and resisted the familiar urge to run his fingers through his dark mop. Draco sighed and took the glass that floated in front of his face, grateful for something to occupy his hands. Once everyone was arranged around the room armed with drink and awkward tension filled the air. No one wanted to broach the topic again but they weren’t sure what was safe to discuss.

The minutes stretched on and they whispered quietly among themselves. Draco sat back slowly sipping his drink and watching the rest of his friends. Okay, if he was really being honest with himself he was trying not to watch the distraught man in front of him. He alternated between frustration with Potter for putting up with these idiots instead of seeing what was obvious to everyone else, anger at the endless parade of idiots who couldn’t treat Harry like a normal person, disappointment in himself for not being brave enough to take a chance and seize happiness, and a desire for the drink in his hands to stop all the feelings.

Draco was startled out of his emotional spiral by Harry, “Please don’t make this weird” he pleaded with the room, “I can’t take anymore weirdness tonight. I just need to be distracted. I don’t want to think about this anymore.”

“Well then,” Blaise replied with a wicked smile,” I have just the thing for us.” He arched one eyebrow at Draco and he immediately understood what Blaise was thinking.

It took every ounce of Slytherin in him to help Blaise convince the rest of their friends that Truth or Dare was the best way to distract Harry. The pair of them teased, cajoled, and in the case of Ron, blackmailed the group into playing. Even in their mid-20s sometimes the best way to escape their problems was to pretend they were in eighth year again.

“I’ll start!” Seamus declared, “Dean, truth or dare?”

“You already know the answer to that, you wanker. Dare.”

“Alright, I dare you to snog me.”

The room booed at the pair as Dean kissed his boyfriend.

“Boring,” Blaise yawned. “This is meant to be a distraction.”

“Alright then,” Dean countered, “Truth or dare, Zabini.”

Blaise leveled his eyes in challenge to Dean, “Dare. And you better make it a good one.”

Dean sat back, thoughtful for a minute before smirking in an incredibly Slytherin manner. “I dare you to fire call the mystery magician you’ve been shagging and invite them here. You can’t tell whoever it is why, or that we’re all here.”

“Thomas, you’re absolutely evil and I could kiss you for it!” Pansy exclaimed from the sofa where she was curled up with her girlfriends. “I’ve been trying to get Blaise to divulge forever.”

“Pass.” Blaise stated, tersely. Dean went to tease him but the words died on his lips when he saw how dangerously Blaise’s eyes were glinting. Draco hadn’t seen that look in a long time, he had almost forgotten how dangerous his flat mate could be when he wanted. The topic was dropped without further discussion and Draco couldn’t help but notice the relief on Weasley’s face. He made a mental note to revisit that at a later date.

The game continued on for a while with their merry group getting progressively more sloshed. Seamus had to wake McGonagall with his patronus, which led to a delightful Howler that left them all in tears; Luna gave them entirely too much information about their’s, Ginny’s, and Pansy’s sex life; Neville had to paint Harry a portrait of his boggart from third year to hang in his flat; Ginny and Pansy gave Potter the most awkward lap dance any of them had ever seen. The game stretched on and Draco had sat there pleasantly pleased that nothing too humiliating had befallen him. Many of them were yawning and leaning heavily on each other. Harry had adjusted himself so that his head was leaning back against Draco’s knee, it had taken him a while to relax into the game and Draco was glad.

“Potter,” Seamus called out slurring his words, “you’re up.”

“Truth, I guess. I don’t have the stomach for these dares.” Harry replied lazily, his voice heavy with drink.

“Hah, the Boy Who Lived, is afraid of a little dare?” The taunts were inevitable when Seamus was this pissed. “Alright then, what’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you during sex?”

Harry immediately tensed. Draco acutely felt the loss of head against his knew as Harry snapped his head up. The discomfort radiating off him in waves. He didn’t need to see his face to know that this question was a disaster.

“I don’t have one.”

> “What do you mean you don’t have one?!” The taunting continued. “Surely with all the crap dates you’ve been on you must have plenty.”  
“Seamus…” Dean interjected, trying to reign in his boyfriend, “bad form.”

“You can’t possibly be drunk enough to think Harry slept with any of those lunatics?!” Ron jumped in, trying to protect his best friend.  
“Of course he has!” Seamus insisted, not realizing what he was blundering into, “He’s only been on bad dates. Otherwise…” he seemed to realize what he had put his foot into just then.

“Otherwise that would make me a virgin. Yup, that about sums it up.” Harry finished flatly.

Draco’s mind went wild at this. How could it be possible? Harry Potter had never had sex?! In the span of two sentences Draco's world had just shifted on its axis. Draco had imagined them together so many times under many, many different circumstances but this had never crossed his mind before. Draco wondered just how limited Potter’s experience was. Had he ever tasted someone else, had he ever touched someone else? He and the Weaslette had been together back before the war, what had they done together?

“Shit, mate. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Seamus tried, snapping Draco back into the conversation.

“Mean to what,” Draco jumped in, impressed with his ability to conceal his feelings, “speak without thinking? One would think you're pretty used to that after all these years, Finnegan.”

Seamus sputtered, too drunk to respond to Draco’s jab, as Harry turned to look at Draco. His green eyes swam with what Draco thought was a mix of appreciation and mischief. He did not like it. “Truth or dare, Malfoy?”

Draco knew he had to respond. It was clear Harry wanted the attention off of himself. His mind was still racing with thoughts of Harry as new fantasies popped up unbidden. “Truth,” he finally replied, immediately regretting his decision.

Harry paused for a moment and Draco thought he saw a flicker of disappointment in his eyes before he told Draco, “ Same question.”  
Draco’s panicked. He had to answer to take the pressure off Harry but he couldn’t. How was he supposed to look Harry in the eye an tell him that the last time he shagged a bloke Draco had called out Harry’s name when he came. He had been with Terrence for two months at that point and the rest of the night had not been great. Draco hadn’t given his friends many details of their sudden breakup and he didn’t want to start now. Fuck.

Draco looked at Harry, the green eyes pleading with him to say something, anything, so that they wouldn’t go back to talking about Harry’s lack of a sex life. Draco racked his brain thinking of a way to get out of this. It came to him quickly,  
“J’ai appelé le nom du mauvalis homme pendant les rapports sexuels.”

Pansy and Blaise immediately lost their heads. Draco knew they would. It was a calculated choice. Better to have just the two of them know, since he had plenty of blackmail of each of them, than to have them all know. Seamus immediately began protesting that Draco was cheating and that this wasn’t fair. Draco tactfully pointed out that no where in Potter’s question did he stipulate that the answer had to be in English. The group began pleasantly bickering about who was right and if Draco should have to give his answer again in English.  
Harry was noticeably silent throughout the debate, eyes fixed intently on Draco. Draco began to squirm under his gaze, wondering if he made a mistake. Could Potter have understood what he said? Draco began to panic and knew he needed to get out of there.

He jumped to his feet, pretending to yawn aggressively. “I’m knackered,” he declared. “And since Finnegan is a baby who can’t handle when he doesn’t get his way I think its time for me to make my exit.”

Draco bid them all goodnight and made his way towards the Floo, not bothering to see if Blaise was following him. The last thing he saw as he spun away in a swirl of green were Potter’s eyes still staring at him intently, knowingly. Draco gulped as the front of his trousers strained uncomfortably.

***

Draco had been hiding out in his room for over an hour when his phone first chipped. He ignored it, imagining it to be Blaise or Pansy - Draco was not up for their particular brand of friendship at the moment. Draco paced his bedroom floor, kicking things to the side to create a path, as he contemplated the heart-stopping, breath-snatching, world-altering confession he witnessed tonight.

Potter was a virgin. How the fuck was Potter a virgin? He had never been inside someone. Or had someone inside him. How was this possible? Draco wasn’t sure it was possible. Sure, most of Harry’s dates had been terrible, Draco knew that from experience. But to have never shagged any of them? Not all of them had been atrocious. He definitely could have pulled from the horde of idol-worshippers throwing themselves at him.

He went on like this for a while, always coming back to the same conclusion: there was no bloody way this was possible. But it was. Potter was a virgin. Pure and untainted. Draco ran his fingers through his hair for what must have been the thousandth time. Somehow this new revelation turned him on even more.

He slid a hand into his pants to adjust himself again, his cock straining uncomfortably against the fly of his trousers. He was painfully hard, almost unspeakably so. Swiftly, Draco disposed his clothing in a pile on the floor, and grasped his cock. He stroked himself, thumb rubbing over his slit, as Potter filled his brain. He began to stroke himself faster as he pictured Potter’s mouth. Oh the things Draco would love to do to that mouth! He imagined that mouth taking him in, sucking him, allowing him to hit the back of that gorgeous, tanned throat, gagging on his length - his green eyes glassy. Draco wondered if he would be the first to enter that mouth.

Draco picked up the pace as he painted a picture of Potter on his brain. He imagined his hands traveling down Potter’s shoulders and onto his chest. He dreamed about kissing him from neck to navel, then further. He mused about nipping and licking Potter’s hips and thighs and bum. He fantasized about taking Potter into his mouth and pleasuring him, pushing him to the edge over and over again, feeling Potter writhe and buck and plead and melt under his ministrations, but not allowing him a release. Draco jerked himself relentlessly as he imagined caressing Potter’s virgin arse, probing his untouched hole, being the first to enter Potter with his tongue, his fingers, his cock. He longed to know Potter in ways no one else had, ways no one else could; inventing in his mind Harry’s smell, his taste, the way his body would respond to Draco’s touch, the intensity of his emerald gaze as they explored each other’s bodies, the face he would make as he neared orgasm, the noises he would made as Draco slowly unmade him over and over again.

Draco came forcefully, liquefying his bones, as he pictured Potter’s face pressed to his as he rode Draco for the first time. “Merde,” he sighed exhaustedly, collapsing onto his bed, not bothering to clean up the cum that had spurted in every direction. The combination of lust, anxiety, and bliss was too powerful and sleep overtook him.

***

The next few days passed by in a flurry for Draco; researching with Hermione, trying to cheer up Harry, complaining and drinking with Blaise and Weasley, and furiously wanking whenever he could escape his friends left very little time for work, or sleep, or anything that did not revolve around Potter and his latest predicament.

Harry’s revelation had awoken a desire in Draco that was insatiable. At work he fantasized about bending Potter over his desk and taking him; while researching in the Ministry’s library with Granger he imagined Potter trying to remain quiet and composed as Draco stroked him to completion under one of the tables; during dinner he pictured Potter’s face as Draco introduced him to food play by drizzling a stripe of chocolate sauce on his cock then licking it off without ever taking his stormy grey eyes off Potters shining green ones. He thought about having Potter slowly in the shower, furiously against the wall of a public loo, lazily in his bed on a Sunday morning, and a million other ways. Everything would be new and possibilities were endless. This led to Draco excusing himself to the loo far too frequently for his liking and dodging his friends queries and “concerns”, “No, Weasley I do not need to see a Healer about my bladder,” “Yes, Blaise my trousers fit just fine,” “Pansy, if you give me one more bottle of lube I’m going to use it to replace all those products I brought you back from France,” “Who left this wrist brace here? I swear I will hex you all into oblivion!”

Finally, after four days Hermione came flying into his office with a stack of books in one hand and a trail of parchment streaming from her other hand. Draco was fortunate that the had set a warning charm that would alert him when anyone trying to speak to him came within 10 meters of his office door. It saved him from what would have been a very embarrassing moment for the pair of them when she burst in nearly shouting, “I found it! The Official Magical Secrets Act!”

“Hermione, that prohibits the sharing of classified information, I don’t think the Ministry is going to find Potter’s lack of sexual experience to be classified.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, “Actually, you’re wrong. After the war Kingsley had the Wizengamot add several amendments to prevent information about the Dark magic that was used from being released. In it we were able to slip in a small detail I think we can exploit here, subsection 6, paragraph J, line 4.” Hermione handed him a large tome open to the passage she was talking about.  
“Any organization, network, or individual publishing information to the public regarding the use of Dark Magic during events of the Second Wizarding War, or individuals who used Dark Magic during the Second Wizarding War must submit the text or script to the Ministry to be revised and redacted prior to recording or production.” Draco paused, contemplating what he just wrote. Before he could respond Hermione was already explaining herself.

“It's not perfect, but Wizarding individual privacy laws are complete bollocks. The original intent was to prevent information about horcruxes and some of the nastier curses from being made known to the public. If you don’t know about them, you can use them. That had been our philosophy at the time. We only had to use it twice, both times to suppress that cow Skeeter, and I’m sure everyone's forgotten about it now, its been years. But Harry was a horcrux so technically the Ministry would be within its rights to request a review, we could use that to shut this down.” She paused for a moment, eyes steely with resolve, anger and sorrow for her best friend radiating palpably from her. “I know its not right, but we need to protect Harry. He’s been exploited for far too long and this is the absolute last straw. I won’t see him hurt again.”

Draco looked at her appraisingly. He was in awe, and slightly frightened, by the woman standing in front of him. She was an unstoppable force and Draco admired her for it. He smirked, “There just may be some Slytherin in you after all, Granger.”

The pair of them spent the rest of the afternoon perfecting a letter to the station directors letting them know that they had been flagged for additional screening of their newest proposed programme. It helped that Draco’s position as Junior Undersecretary for the Magical Information Bureau would ensure that he could intercept the response before anyone higher up discovered that they were abusing their positions.

***

When Draco checked his phone Thursday night to find a message from Potter cancelling pub night he made a decision. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when Draco stepped out of his Floo. “You really shouldn’t leave this open. Anyone could show up unannounced.”  
“Yeah like blond-haired gits who don’t know when to leave someone alone,” Harry grumbled.

“Ooo, someone's feeling feisty today.”

“Shut up, Draco. I’m really not in the mood.”

“I know, that’s why I’m here. I brought supplies.” Draco unstoppered a bottle of whiskey, summoned two glasses from the kitchen and poured them each a healthy measure. Draco raised his glass in a toast, “To your good luck in love.”

Harry flipped him two fingers but gratefully drank. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Draco held up his hands innocently.

“But you want me to, talk about it that is.”

“Well, historically keeping things in has never worked out well for you. You were an absolute train wreck in fifth and sixth years always moody and brooding, oh and remember when you got in that fight with Ron over quidditch and the pair of you didn’t speak for a month - that was delightful. And then there was the Skeeter Incident, after that I wasn’t sure you were ever going to speak again.” Draco felt guilty bringing up Skeeter but Harry had to realize he had survived plenty of terrible things before and he would survive this too. “So, better out than in. Spill.”

Harry sighed, “I guess you’re right. I thought nothing could affect me after Skeeter. I thought I could never feel that type of violation again. Having her listen in on my date, having said ‘date’ cooperate with her, I thought nothing could be worse than that, I thought my defenses were iron-clad. Then this happened and I realized just how wrong I could be.” Harry took a breath, “Maybe I’m just not meant to be with someone. Maybe the person I was meant to be with died in the war, or left the country and hasn’t returned, or I’ve met them and they don’t fancy me, or- or- I don’t know they’re happily married to a hippogriff,” Harry finished dramatically.

Draco nearly choked on his drink, “Harry, you can’t be serious!”

“But I am, if I’ve learned anything after all of this its that I should just give up on finding someone and be satisfied that I have a great group of friends and people who love me platonically. Finding a partner just isn’t going to happen for me.”

Harry was defeated. The boy whose parent’s love had loomed over him, and saved him on many occasions, had given up on love. Draco’s heart broke in that moment and it wasn’t just for Harry. Draco had to change his mind and he knew that sitting her wallowing wasn’t the way to do it.

“Finish your drink, we’re getting out of here.”

“I’m fine right here.”

“Potter if you don’t drain your glass and get your arse off that sofa I will make you,” Draco threatened.

Harry grimaced but did what Draco said. He knew from experience what would happen. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere you can get out of your head for a while. Throwing a pity party for yourself isn’t doing anyone, especially me, any good,” Draco responded cheekily. “We just need to change your outfit.” Draco waved his wand in Harry’s direction and his tatty T-shirt and joggers transformed into tight, dark jeans and a form-fitting black v-neck. His worn out trainers were replaced with a pair of black Oxfords and with another flick of his wand Draco managed to take Potter’s hair from bed-head to artfully tousled. With this new look the facial hair only added to Potter’s appeal.

He stepped back and admired his work, feeling for just a moment like Harry’s fairy godmother. Harry looked good and Draco wondered if this would be a mistake as he felt his cock thickening against the front of his jeans. Before he could second guess his decision Draco grabbed Harry by the hand and dragged him out of the flat.

He side-alonged Harry to Diagon Alley and the pair of them made their way down the quiet street. Harry shot Draco a questioning look as they made a right onto Horozont Alley and Draco realized he was still holding Potter’s hand. A flush crept up his neck as he grasped a bit tighter and pulled him to the left at the next corner and through the magical barrier into Epic Alley.

Instantly they were assaulted with a raucous display of flashing neon lights and signs, glittering fireworks, deeply pulsing dance music, and witches & wizards in various states of dress. Some Hogwarts students who had been a few years younger than Draco and his friends had decided upon their graduation that Wizarding Britain needed more fun after the trauma that haunted their adolescence. It had become one of Draco’s favorite places to go when the darkness crept in, he could drink and dance and forget his worries as he lost himself to the pulsing throng of bodies. He hoped it would do the same for Potter tonight.

He stole a look at Potter and was relieved to find that he had made the right choice. He steered Harry towards Ascendio, Draco’s favorite club. As they passed through the barrier covering the doorway Harry grasped Draco’s hand a little tighter, “Don’t leave me tonight, okay?” Draco squeezed his hand in reassurance and began to snake his way to the bar.

He ordered two fire whiskeys, passed one to Harry, and raised his own in a toast, “Here’s to forgetting our problems, not matter how trivial they may be!”

Harry snorted in amusement, downed his in one and signaled the barman for another round. Draco followed suit, relieved that Harry was able to let go, even if it was only for a few hours. They finished their second round quickly and this time it was Harry’s turn to grab Draco by the hand and drag him towards the dance floor after hurried instructions to the barman that he should continue sending drinks over to them.

They pushed into the middle of the crowd and allowed the pulsing bass and energy of the other dancers sweep them away. Draco couldn't help but admire Harry as he danced - he was not the best dancer by any means - but he threw himself into the movements, abandoning all of his inhibitions, it was a beautiful thing to behold. Draco could see every twitch of the muscles in Harry’s chest and arms through the v-neck, as if it was painted on him. He ogled Harry as he swung his hips and shook his perfectly formed arse in step with the beat. The flashing lights flickered across Harry’s face as he threw his head back, eyes closed, and beamed with joy. Draco swelled at the sight.  
As they continued to dance, many would-be partners approached Harry full of hope or lust or bravado. Draco’s chest filled with anxiety each time, but Harry rebuffed them all. The drinks kept appearing and the crowd pressed around them and eventually they went from dancing with each other to dancing on each other. Draco tried his hardest to pretend it was Pansy grinding her bum into his crotch instead of Harry, but it was futile. If it were Pansy grinding up on him he would not be hard, and he was hopelessly hard. How could he not be with Harry this close to him? Draco decided to embrace the night’s events and and grasped Harry’s hips to pull him closer. Harry arched his back and rested his head on Draco’s shoulder, his back rubbing against Draco’s chest. Draco wondered if Harry could feel his heart racing.

The thought was short-lived as Harry suddenly spun around and threw his arms around Draco’s neck head thrown back to expose the underside of his jaw. It took everything in him not to lean forward and lick a stripe up Harry’s throat. He didn’t think it was possible but his prick swelled even more and he knew it Potter took half a step forward he would feel all of Draco. As one song bled into another and two new drinks zoomed over to them, Harry moved closer to Draco, running his free hand through Draco’s hair. “Your hair is so sexy like this Draco,” Harry breathed into Draco’s ear.

Draco stilled as the hair on the back of is neck stood up and a jolt of arousal went straight to his cock. His trousers, which had already been straining uncomfortably, were now almost unbearable. He excused himself and hurried across the dance floor, head spinning. He reached the bathroom and grasped the sink, breathing heavily. Was this really happening? Had Potter really been sending him signals? Could Draco actually have what he wanted? He steadied his breathing and splashed some cold water on his face. He could do this. He could go back out there and make his move. He wouldn’t sleep with Harry tonight, they were in no state for that considering his special circumstances. But they could do other things; Draco could kiss him, could touch him, could still make him cum. He could still be with Harry.

Draco turned quickly on his heel and marched back out to the dance floor before his courage failed him. He wound his way back through the crowd to where he left Potter only moments earlier. Draco’s eyes scanned the crowd but couldn’t spot him. He figured Harry had gone to the bar in his absence and allowed the pulse of the crowd to push him in that direction. Draco flagged down the barman from before but Harry had not come back over.

Draco scanned the crowd again, anxiety pooling in his stomach. He had promised Harry that he would not leave him, and yet he had done exactly that. Draco pulled out his mobile to text Harry but found he had no service. He decided he would make one more lap of the club and if he still didn’t find Harry he would step outside and try to get a signal.

Armed with a drink, Draco began to weave through crowd on the fringes of the dance floor. He checked every alcove and dark corner, eyed every messy-haired man he passed, and still there was no Potter. Nearly twenty minutes had passed when Draco decided to go outside and try to text Potter. He hade his way down the hallway that led to the exit and froze in his tracks. Harry was pressed against the wall aggressively making out with a random witch.

Draco couldn’t move, he could only stand there and watch in disbelief as the man he had wanted for so long became someone else’s. His breath hitched in his chest and he felt the tears collect in his periphery. He had finally convinced himself into thinking this was actually going to happen and now his delusions were staring him in the face. Draco let out a ragged breath right as the music paused for a beat. Harry looked up and was horror-struck to find Draco standing in front of him. He pushed the witch off of him but it was too late, Draco was already pushing past him trying to make a break for the door.

Draco felt a hand grasp his wrist and he shook his arm aggressively to free it. He heard Harry call after him which only propelled him forward faster. He burst through the doors, into the crisp night and disappeared on the spot. The second he touched down in his flat he threw up every ward he could think of. He did not want Potter following him.

Draco stormed into his bathroom and began rummaging around in his potion-chest. Finally, he found the small purple vial, unstoppered the ornate silver cap and drank down two mouthfuls of Dreamless Sleep. He barely had time to remove his jeans before he collapsed face-first into his mattress.

***

Draco woke to the sound of the Floo chiming far earlier than was necessary. He rolled over grumbling and shouted to Blaise to answer the bloody thing. His head was pounding and his mouth felt as if he had spent a week in the desert. The chiming continued and he yelled to Blaise again. What was the point of having a roommate if they couldn’t even answer the bloody Floo? Draco rolled off the mattress wrapping his duvet around himself in the process.

He emerged from his bedroom shouting, “you better have a bloody good reason for not answering this you wanker,” at Blaise’s door before accepting the call.

Granger’s bushy head popped into his fireplace. “Good morning!” She chirped, far too awake for this hour of the morning. “Don’t you look dashing like that,” smirking at his blanket-cloak and lack of pyjama bottoms.

“What do you want Granger? Some of us had long nights and could use another 10 hours of sleep, if you don’t mind.”

“Actually, I do. It's 9am and I waited as long as I could. I need you to come through. We have things to discuss.”

“Pass. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

Draco turned to leave the room when Hermione said the one thing that could keep his attention. “Harry was here.” Draco kept his back to the Floo but did not move. “He’s in bad shape. I received an owl this morning and he read it. I think you should come through so I can tell you everything.”

Draco debated what to do. Potter’s happiness wasn’t his responsibility. He had made that perfectly clear last night. “Draco, I’ve made tea.”  
“Tell him we have a ton of hangover potion too,” Draco could hear Ron shouting from the other side.

Draco sighed, he knew if he didn’t go through that they would just end up here. He did not want to discuss anything having to do with Potter in his own home. “Fine, give me a few minutes to wash up and I’ll be through.”

“Thank you Draco.”

Ten minutes later, properly showered and dressed in his favorite hoodie and joggers, Draco stepped out of the Floo and into the Granger-Weasley kitchen. He expected the large stripey mug that was pressed into his hands when he stepped out, but what he didn’t expect was that it was Blaise who passed it to him. “What are you doing here? And where is you shirt? Wait one minute. Are you?…are they?…is this why?…oh, Merlin!”

Blaise just shrugged and sipped his own tea, “Yes.”

“Okay then. We’re going to chat about this later, you and I. Where’s the hangover potion I was promised?”

Blaise handed him the vile vial and Draco thought to himself, not for the first time, that the whoever invented this was evil for not making it easier to go down. “Last night was a mess, Draco. You’re lucky I didn’t come through the Floo and drag you over here.”

Draco followed his flat mate into the living room and resumed his position in the squashy armchair. Blaise claimed the seat next to Weasley on the sofa and placed his arm along the back behind Weasley’s head while Hermione stood in front of her desk rifling through a large stack of parchment. Without turning to face him she asked, “What exactly happened last night, Draco?”

“What do you mean?”

“Harry showed up here a half-past three utterly pissed and beside himself,” Ron informed Draco.

“Why was he beside himself? The last I saw him he was happily wrapped around some witch.” Draco struggled to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “When I found him otherwise occupied I left. It was clear he did not want to be disturbed.”

“Oh, Draco,” Hermione said gently. “He tried to come by your flat but your wards wouldn’t let him pass.” Hermione told him patiently. “ He tried everything he could think of for three quarters of an hour before coming here. Even our Floo wouldn’t let him through.” She tactfully ignored Draco’s sniff of derision but Ron did not.

“You know Draco,” he started, “you pride yourself on being so perceptive and knowing exactly how to get others to do what you want, on being a ‘true Slytherin,’ but you can’t even see what’s happening right in front of your face. It’s a bit pathetic mate.”

“Watch yourself, Weasel,” Draco growled, “we may be friends now, but I won’t hesitate to hex you.”

“Calm down you prat, I’m just trying to help you.” Ron held his hands up defensively.

“Draco,” Hermione started, using her conciliatory voice, “we just want you to be happy and right now its obvious you’re not. What Ron is trying to say is that maybe there’s a reason last night went as far as it did.”

“He wants you, you tit! That’s the bloody reason last night went as far as it did! He’s wanted you for years, he bloody stalked you in sixth year! Why do you think he became friends with you in the first place? We know that sometimes he doesn’t call us after a bad date, sometimes its only you. Why do you think that is?”

Draco was speechless

“Never thought a Weasley would be the one to stun a Malfoy into silence,” Weasley grinned. “Are you going to leave him hanging any longer than you already have? You know what he needs.”

“When did you get so insightful, Weasel?” Draco asked, finally finding his voice.

“When you’ve spent the majority of your life with Hermione Granger she starts to rub off on you, mate.” Ron replied sagely. “Also,” he teased, “the pair of you are as subtle as a bludger to the head. How this has gone on this long is beyond me.”

“He was here all night, Draco. We had only just sobered him up and gotten him to calm down when the owl arrived.” Hermione passed him the letter and Draco scanned it intently.

After a minute he choked out, “He- he read this?”

Hermione just pursed her lips. Draco looked to Ron who was clenching his fists then Blaise who looked at him meaningfully before asking, “Did you notice who the letter was signed by, Draco?”

Draco hadn’t. He looked back down at the letter and fury filled him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Draco’s hands shook and his voice trembled. “Of all the ridiculous, petty, vindictive- I’ll kill him.” Draco stood, the letter still clutched in his fist, “Blaise with me, we have work to do. Weasley, Granger, go make sure Harry hasn’t drowned himself in the bath, or done something else equally as dramatic. Don’t tell him anything. I’ll be there when I can.”

***

Draco strode purposefully down the third floor corridor of the WWN with Blaise at his side. The two men took a left at the corner, passing the newsroom and two smaller studios before stopping in front of an innocuous looking door. The name plate next to the door read Mr. T. Wood. Draco turned to Blaise, nodded then rapped his knuckles smartly on the door as he turned the knob.

Mr. T. Wood was exactly has Draco had remembered him, “Hello, Terrence. It seems you and I have some business to discuss.”

“D-Draco!” The sandy-haired man gritted, “What are you doing here? I thought I made it clear I never wanted to see you again.”

“Yes, well, that would have been just fine if you hadn’t decided to insert yourself into my friend’s life,” Draco replied airily. He was not going to allow Terrence to see how upset he truly was.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re on about but I think it would be best if you left.” Terrence attempted to move towards his office door but before he could Blaise stepped neatly in front of it, glaring at him menacingly.

“Have a seat, Terrence.” Draco waved his hand and a chair pulled up under Terrence, knocking out the back of his knees and forcing him into the seat. “We’re just going to have a little chat, come to an understanding you and I, then Blaise and I will be on our way.”

Terrence looked like he was going to say something snide but Blaise cut him off in his deep timbre, “Refusal would be unwise. You know who we are and what we’re capable of. Just because we realized our allegiances during the war were misguided doesn’t mean we forgot the magic we learned from them.”

Terrence's eyes widened before he slumped back in his seat, obviously defeated.

“You,” Draco began, voice even, “are going to leave Harry Potter alone. You, and your network, will not air anything on him without his express permission. You will not mention whatever it is you think you know about his personal life to anyone. You will not approach him again under any circumstances, for any reason, ever. You will make an Unbreakable Vow with me, right now, with Blaise as our Bonder. In return, I will not do anything to intentionally ruin your career, or your life. Once we’ve made the Vow you’ll go let the station directors know that the show is off.” Draco sat in his seat, smug in his victory.

“You seem to be forgetting something, Draco.” Terrence had finally found his voice. “You can’t coerce someone into making an Unbreakable Vow, they have to make it willingly otherwise the magic won’t work.”

“That, Terrence, is where you are mistaken. You do want to do this. You don’t want me to ruin your life. I will, and I will do it spectacularly. Don’t tempt me Terrence. I am not a forgiving man.”

Terrence grimaced, realizing he had been beaten. “Fine, I give up. I’ll do it. Let’s make it quick.”

Five minutes later Draco and Blaise exited Mr. T. Wood’s office. Draco couldn’t help but chirp, “It was a pleasure doing business with you!” Before the door closed. They made their way back down the corridor to the lifts and Draco couldn’t help but crack a smile. There was one more thing he needed to do today.

***

Draco’s hand trembled as he reached for the buzzer to Harry’s flat. He inhaled and held his breath for a count of four before releasing it and pressing the small black button. He heard the ringing buzz reverberate on the fifth floor of the walk-up and the click of the door as it was unlocked from the flat above. Draco climbed the stairs slowly, counting his breaths to keep himself steady, the effects of the adrenaline had not stoped since he stepped out of Terrence’s office hours earlier.

He had surprised everyone by not immediately Apparating to Harry’s flat and jumping him, but that would not do for a first time. Instead, Draco had gone back to his and Blaise’s flat to prepare. He had fire called over to Potter’s and told the trio that everything had been handled before asking Harry if he could come round that evening for a celebratory drink. Harry had turned to extend the invitation to Ron and Hermione and therefore could not see the death glare Draco shot their way before they politely declined with terrible excuses.

Draco had spent the next several hours primping and fussing with his hair, beard, and outfit until Blaise had threatened to push him through the Floo wearing only a bow and a sign that said “eat me.” Draco still had nearly an hour left before he was due to Harry’s at that point so he decided that walking over would be the best way to kill some time. Along the way he had stopped at several shops to pick up various food, drink, and additional supplies the pair might need that night.

That was how Draco had ended up here, climbing the stairs to Harry’s flat, laden down with parcels. When he mercifully reached Potter’s landing the door was ajar and he could hear Harry puttering around inside and smiled. Draco pushed open the heavy door with his foot just as Harry was passing by and slammed the corner of it right into Harry’f face. The force of the crash knocked Harry to his knees and nearly topped Draco, packages and all. Draco righted himself and rushed over to the dazed man on the floor. “Harry! Are you alright! I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed, visibly flustered. This was not off to a good start.

“M’better now that my white knight is here. Just back from his quest to save my honour,” Harry replied, throwing his arm across in face in feigned dramatics.

Draco laughed, “Merlin, Potter. I didn’t hit you hard enough for you to be this barmy.”

Harry cracked a smile and felt his head gingerly; a goose egg was rapidly rising. “Well this is going to be attractive. Can’t wait for my next date so I can explain how one of my best mates laid me out with a door.”

“N- next date?” Draco stammered out as he helped Harry to his feet.

“It’s a joke, Draco,” Harry replied clapping his friend on the shoulder, hand lingering just slightly longer than it should have. “I’m going to grab some pain potion for this, why don’t you take all of that stuff into the kitchen so we can get it sorted.”

Harry disappeared down the hall as Draco gathered up the parcels and bags that had been dropped unceremoniously a few moments before. “Great job, Draco,” he grumbled, “nothing like a little nearly knocking the man unconscious to really get him going.” He continued to chide himself as he unpacked most of the bags, saving a choice few items to shrink down and tuck into his pocket.

He was so focused on reprimanding himself that he didn’t hear Harry come into the kitchen until a voice asked gently, “he’s never going to what, Draco?”

Draco turned abruptly. Harry was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen with a soft look on his face. Draco squirmed under his gaze and tried to brush it off with a flippant, “nothing, nothing. Just going round the bend.”

Harry took a step forward, his emerald eyes fixed on Draco’s, “Draco, what am I never going to do?” Draco swallowed as Harry continued to close the space between them, eyes still fixed. “I’m pretty sure I would do almost anything for you after today.”

“Come off it, Potter. It wasn’t that big of a deal.” Draco scoffed, taking a step back and trying to break their eye contact.

Harry advanced on him again. “Not that big of a deal? Draco, you made an Unbreakable Vow. For me. You’ve put your life on the line. For me. How can you say that isn’t a big deal?”

Draco could feel the intensity of Harry’s gaze on him as he pointedly looked at the floor and taking another step back before bumping into the counter. “I did what needed to be done,” Draco replied meekly, his feet pinned to the floor. “That’s what you do for-” he paused and swallowed the lump in his throat, finally looking back at Harry. Those green eyes pleaded with him to finish his thought. “-for someone when you love him.”

Harry stood there gobsmacked. Long moments passed and neither of them said anything. Draco began to fidget with the hem of his jumper, nervous that he had said the wrong thing, that he had ruined everything by finishing that sentence. He tensed, ready to flee the kitchen, to start a new life where no one knew him when Harry reached out, grabbing Draco’s face in both hands and crashing their mouths together. Ten years of built up emotion was pouring out of both of them in this moment and Draco knees buckled from the power of it.

Harry pulled away and gazed into Draco’s eyes for a moment, asking, “is this really happening?” before grabbing the taller man’s face in both hands and crashing their mouths together again, not waiting for an answer. This time it was more frantic, more passionate, messier. There wasn’t just ten years of emotion pent up in them, there was lust, and desire, and frustration and, unless both of them were lying - a tiny bit of rage for holding back as long as they did. They poured all of it into this kiss. Their tongues battling for real estate in each other's mouths; their teeth catching each other's lips, pulling and biting; their hands tugging at each other's hair, roaming each other's bodies, grasping desperately at each other's clothes, trying to find purchase on the other man’s body. It was a battle as much as it was an expression of desire and it lit Draco on fire. Every nerve in his body was on high alert. For every move Potter made, Draco had to counter.

They kissed for an eternity, pushing each other against cabinets and knocking things off counters. Draco slammed Harry into the doorframe harder than he had meant, knocking the breath from his partner, forcing them apart. He gazed at Harry his shirt tails untucked, hair looking worse than usual, his hands on his knees sucking in big lungfuls of air, and Draco thought he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “How is it possible,” he inquired cheekily, “for your hair to look freshly-shagged when no one’s ever put it in you before?”

Harry let out a large huff of laughter before looking at Draco with a suggestive challenge in his eye, “why don’t you take me down the hallway and change that, then?”

Draco grabbed Harry’s waist and pulled him close, nibbling his ear before whispering, “Vos désirs sont des ordres.” Harry gasped and rutted against Draco desperately, his hardness pressing into Draco’s thigh.

Draco chuckled lowly into Harry’s neck, “Do you like that?” Harry whined into Draco’s hair, bucking furiously. Draco continued, “Do you want me to speak French to you, Harry?” The whining continued. “Do you want me to tell you all the things I’m going to do to you?” Harry moaned wantonly into Draco’s neck before grabbing a fistful of Draco’s hair, tugging his head back sharply to expose his long neck, and licking a stripe from the dip in Draco’s collarbone to the soft flesh of his ear.

Without warning Draco grasped Harry by the thighs and lifted him up; Harry instinctively wrapped his legs around Draco’s waist as they headed toward the bedroom. As Draco walked he grabbed the firm globes of Harry’s arse, luxuriating in how perfectly they fit in his hands, before leaning in and whispering in Harry’s ear. “Je vais te baiser jusqu'à ce que tu cries.” He said with a perfect accent. “Je vais te lécher et te sucer et t'utiliser jusqu'à ce qu'il ne reste plus rien. Je te garderai dans ce lit jusqu'à ce que je sois sûre que tu ne marcheras plus jamais de la même manière.” He could feel Harry’s cock straining against his trousers, pressing into Draco’s stomach, as he ground into the man carrying him, using his legs for leverage.

Once in the room, Draco pressed Harry against the wall, grasping his firm arse and moaning in appreciation. “Too many clothes,” Harry mumbled into his hair as Draco was busy kissing and biting his neck. Draco allowed Harry to dismount, immediately going for the button on the gorgeous man’s trousers while kissing and biting and licking any visible skin. They peeled the layers off of each other, frantically tossing the now useless clothes away.

Once he was down to his pants something shifted in Harry; he became shyer, his kisses more tentative. Draco sat on the bed staring at the gorgeous man standing in front of him and grasped his waist, pulling him close, and planting a kiss on his ribs. “What is it?” Draco asked gently.

“What if-” Harry broke off, looking away.

Draco stood, knowing what Harry didn’t want to say, and carefully placed his hands on either side of Harry’s face coaxing him to look back at him. “Its going to be brilliant.”

“How can you be so sure?” Harry asked, his voice small, eyes still avoiding Draco’s.

“Because its us and everything we do is brilliant; it stands to reason that anything we do together will be doubly brilliant. Because we care about each other too much for it not to be. Because if it is, we’re just going to have to keep at it - and what a shame that would be.” Harry cracked a smile. “Shall I continue?”

Draco took it as a no when Harry’s mouth attacked his hungrily. He spun them around still kissing, then pushed Harry down onto the bed straddling the now-horizontal man. They kissed again ferociously before Draco broke off and began kissing a trail down Harry’s neck and over his impressive pectorals, stopping to take a brown nipple in his mouth. Harry keened as Draco bit and sucked at the sensitive skin, making sure to attend to both before continuing down Harry’s torso. He licked along the outlines of Harry’s abs, nipped at the tops of his hip bones, and skated his tongue along the band of Harry’s boxer-briefs. Harry moaned in appreciation of Draco’s ministrations and bucked his hips, drawing Draco’s attention to his unattended cock.

It was straining mightily against the fabric and Draco could see a wet spot had formed near the head. Draco mouthed along Harry’s still-concealed prick, feeling it twitch and respond to him as he moved. Harry whined desperately bucking his hips again and Draco chuckled with amusement. “De bonnes choses arrivent à ceux qui attendent,” he chided as he slid his hands down Harry’s waistband and freed his cock from its prison.

“Beautiful,” Draco breathed. Harry had pulled his knees up and was on full display for Draco. His cock standing at attention, nestled in a thatch of black hair, angled slightly towards his taut stomach. Harry’s bollocks hung heavy below, obscuring Draco’s view of his hole. Draco leaned forward and pushed Harry flat on his back, spreading his knees wide to reveal all of Harry. He hadn’t thought it possible but his desire for the gorgeously tanned man below him grew. He could feel his own erection straining against the fabric still encasing it but made no move to do anything about it.

Turned his attention to Harry’s crotch, Draco leaned down and engulfed the perfectly formed cock in his mouth. Slowly, he began sucking and teasing the man below him, coaxing sounds from him that he had only dreamed about. He began to pick up the pace, taking Harry deep, before running his tongue back up the underside of his length. He grasped Harry’s bollocks in one hand, squeezing and tugging on them while swirling his tongue around the sensitive tip of Harry’s cock, causing his moans to reach a new pitch. Releasing Harry’s bollocks, Draco summoned a small bottle from the pocket of his discarded trousers and poured a generous amount of lube onto his free hand.  
Releasing Harry’s cock with a pop, Draco pushed Harry’s knees wider, leaving his tightly furled hole on display. Draco didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he released it, whispering a cleaning charm, and Harry’s arse twitched as the damp warmth ghosted across his sensitive skin in combination with the magic. With a hum of pleasure, Draco licked a stripe up Harry’s arse, flicking the tightened skin quickly as he passed over it. A chill shot up Harry’s spine as he moaned, throwing an arm over his face.

“No, ” Draco said, reaching up to pull his arm down, “I want to see you.” Harry didn’t reply, but clenched the duvet with both hands as Draco returned to the task in front of him. He licked and nipped at the the sensitive skin around Harry’s hole until the tight ring of muscle began to relax. Draco lapped at Harry’s delicious hole, probing the it with the tip of his tongue, making filthy noises, slowly working the muscles open to allow him entrance. Harry’s moans urged Draco on, increasing in both frequency and volume as Draco worked him over.  
Gently, Draco added finger, continuing to open Harry, who let out an articulate “FUCK!” when Draco finally slipped in a finger. Harry stiffened and Draco stilled, allowing him to adjust to the new sensation. Draco pressed a kiss to Harry’s inner thigh and mumbled, “You’re doing so well.” Harry keened in response and pressed his hips forward taking Draco’s finger further into his arse.

Draco pressed his finger in further applying more pressure, pressing more kisses into Harry’s thighs as he went. When he felt ready, Draco slipped a second finger in and Harry moaned wantonly, writhing as the pleasure overwhelmed him. Draco slowly began fucking him with his hand as he reached down to take Harry’s bollocks in his mouth, sucking at the sensitive skin, and driving Harry mad. His unattended cock was jutting straight up, pulsing with desire. Draco released his bollocks, still pressing his fingers into Harry’s arse and licked along the sensitive vein running up the underside of his cock, just as he flicked the fleshy bundle of nerves inside Harry.

That was all he needed for release. Harry came forcefully, spurting ropes of cum along his stomach, clenching Draco’s fingers in a delicious tightness as he fucked him through his orgasm crooning, “You’re so good, Harry. So gorgeous like this.” Draco relished the sight of his lover undone at his hands. He reached forward with his free hand and swirled his finger in the jism coating Harry’s stomach before popping the finger in his mouth and licking it clean.

Draco then crawled up his lover’s body and kissed him filthily. “I hope you don’t think I’m done with you yet,” Draco growled.  
Harry surprised Draco by reaching down and grabbing his swollen prick through his pants. “You didn’t think I was going to let you have all the fun,” Harry challenged, his voice husky.

“Actually, I did.” Draco grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head, grinding his erection into Harry’s groin. “Tonight,” he bit Harry’s ear, “is all,” he kissed Harry’s collar, “about you,” he sucked a hardened nipple into his mouth. “Vous méritez d'être adoré.” With a wave of his hand Draco vanished his pants, finally freeing his cock as it smacked Harry’s stomach.

Draco took both of them in his hand and began jerking and pulling them together. Harry flagging erection began growing again, much to Draco’s delight.

Draco proceeded to lick, and suck, and stroke, and probe Harry with fingers and tongue until he was achingly hard again and begging. Draco’s cock twitched with arousal as the words poured from Harry’s lips, “Please Draco, I need you. Your hands are so good but I need more. I need your cock inside me, filling me up.” Draco was only too happy to oblige. He grinned wickedly at the man below him, poured more lube in his hand and slicked himself up.

He pressed his fingers into Harry’s arse, massaging the ring of muscle that had tightened a bit, and scissoring them a few more times to make sure he was ready. Draco pushed Harry’s knees wide, hooking his arm under one, lifting it to open his lover wide before lining himself up and gently pressing his swollen head in. He gasped with pleasure as his cock pressed into Harry’s tight warmth, Harry keened and shifted his hips as he adjusted to Draco’s size. With a nod from his partner, Draco began thrusting shallowly, slowly giving his partner more and more of himself until he was fully seated.

As Draco’s thrusts intensified so did Harry’s babbling. “Draco, your cock is so huge. It feels so good inside me. I can’t believe I’ve gone this long without having you inside me. You give me exactly what I need.” With every compliment Draco’s hips snapped harder. Before long Harry was rising to meet Draco’s thrusts, the pair of them finding a rhythm that had them panting, Harry’s stream of praise never ceasing.

Draco could feel himself getting close so he grasped Harry’s cock in his fist, frantically pumping in time with his thrusts. He could feel Harry getting closer, his babbling becoming incoherent, his bollocks growing heavier and tighter in his hand. The two men’s orgasms built and built until they broke like a wave simultaneously. Harry clenched around Draco gloriously as Draco emptied himself into Harry’s hole. Harry pumped ropes of cum across his and Draco’s torsos, painting them white with the evidence of his desire.

Draco collapsed over Harry kissing his lips, and cheeks, and neck; pressing their foreheads together and panting as their heart rates slowly evened out and their cocks softened. Eventually Draco rolled off of him, casting a quick cleaning spell before curling his body around Harry and pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck.

Utterly exhausted, the men drifted to sleep in a tangle of limbs and sheets. Draco awoke hours later to the first rays of sun peaking through the trees outside Harry’s window. The light fell across his lover, making his skin glow in the early morning light, taking his breath away. He lay there for a while admiring the man who had turned to putty in his hands the night before when he noticed a glint of green through a cracked lid.

Draco leaned over and smiled, pressing a kiss to Harry’s temple. “Harry,” he asked, wrapping his arms around the gorgeous man, “will you go on a date with me?”

A sleepy smile broke on Harry’s face and Draco knew it was the last time he would ever ask that question.

***

Draco smirked and took another sip of his drink as his phone chirped. He already knew what the message said and he was ready. He reached across the table and grasped Harry’s hand giving it a reassuring squeeze and the responses rolled in. They laughed at Seamus and Ginny taking the piss again, knowing that they had no idea what was coming.

Draco fidgeted with the hem of his shirt nervously as they waited for their friends to arrive. “Hey,” Harry placed a reassuring hand on his thigh as a jolt of electricity shot through Draco’s core, “its going to be great. They’re going to go mental,” before reaching over to capture his boyfriends mouth in his own. Draco lost himself in the embrace, mind still reeling from the fact that they belonged to each other now. Never again would Harry have to face the aftermath of a bad date. ~~Never again would Draco throw a strop because of Harry’s poor choices.~~ Draco could get used to living in a world where this was his new normal.

The two men were so engrossed in each other that they missed the tinkling of the bell over the pub door as their friends piled in en masse. It wasn’t until Seamus wolf whistled and Ginny turned to Pansy shouting, “Finally! You owe me three galleons!” that they broke apart, grinning sheepishly.

“Oi, Potter, is this was constitutes a dating emergency now?” Dean teased. The group rushed the couple in a flood of excitement and alcohol and bawdy comments, demanding to know everything. They drank long into the night, recapping the series of events that landed them here. As the night wore on and the group became rowdier, Draco sat back watching his friends, marveling at how much had changed in a decade.

Feeling sentimental, Draco leaned over to Harry whispering softly, “How does it feel?”

Harry gave him a questioning look, “What do you mean?”

“Know that’s the last time you’ll ever have to send that message. How does it feel?

Harry’s face broke into a wide grin, “It feels bloody fantastic.”

Draco agreed, having Harry Potter as his boyfriend was bloody fantastic.

**Author's Note:**

> Harry and Draco have been friends for years when one drunken night Harry confesses he's a virgin. The next day Harry doesn't mention it again but Draco can't stop thinking about it, can't stop thinking about all the ways he already wanted to make Potter his; except now he's got another dimension to the fantasy.


End file.
